More Than Words
by YanksLuver
Summary: Robin needs brain surgery and Patrick wants to operate.


**Title**: More Than Words  
**Author**: Steph  
**Rating**: PG  
**Pairing**: Robin/Patrick  
**Category**: Drama/Romance  
**Disclaimer**: I do this out of a love for this couple. No infringement is intended.  
**Spoilers**: Nope.  
**Summary**: Robin needs brain surgery and Patrick wants to operate.

**Note**: Thanks for the feedback on "The Morning After" and part 4 of "Sweet Temptation". The last part of that soon. This popped into my head the other day and I thought it would be interesting to see play out on the show someday. Who knows? Maybe it will, but until then, that's why we have fanfics! This takes place in present day. Robin and Patrick's relationship is where it is on the show. Hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you thought. Thanks! -Steph

**- - - More Than Words: Part 1/1 - - -**

"No, Patrick, you crossed the line again. End of discussion," Robin said firmly.

He placed his hands on his hips. "You know, I hate when someone says 'end of discussion' like they have the right to declare when the discussion is actually over."

"Well, I'm not discussing it with you anymore so..."

"Yet you're still standing here."

Robin's jaw clenched. "Will you just admit you're wrong!"

He smiled. "I knew that's what you were waiting for."

"Just do it and I'll get out of your hair."

"Not on your life, sweetheart."

"He's my patient, Patrick. Mr. Finley chose to treat his condition with medication. You had no right to speak to him about surgery. I didn't ask you for a consult."

"I'm sorry. I thought I remembered hearing something about informing the patient of all his options in med school."

"He knows surgery is an option. He chose to try medication first," Robin said, as she felt a sudden sharp pain behind her eyes.

She placed her hand to her forehead and steadied herself with her hand on the counter.

Patrick looked at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a headache." She shook her head. "Don't change the subject."

"Look, I'm never going to admit I'm wrong, so we could be here all day. Which would be fine, except I have dinner plans."

Robin rolled her eyes, the pain steadily increasing in her head. "Of course you do. I have a question though. Do these 'dinner plans' you always have ever involve actually eating dinner?"

He grinned. "Well, there's always dessert."

Robin felt herself beginning to sway and had to steady herself with her hand on the counter again.

"Of course there is," she managed to say.

Patrick's brow furrowed with worry. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should sit down."

She shook her head, "No, I'm fine. I have rounds."

She then took a deep breath and grabbed her charts. She was barely able to take one step forward before collapsing. Patrick moved quickly and caught her in his arms before she hit the floor.

"I need a gurney over here! Now!" he yelled.

---

Patrick walked into Robin's room, his face falling at the sight of her. He was used to seeing patients hooked up to tubes and looking like death warmed over. But this was Robin. He hadn't seen her like this since the virus. It was hard then and it was only harder now.

He walked over to her bed and sat down beside her. Patrick took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles. He squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his lips to linger on her skin. She was so cold.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open at his touch. She turned her gaze to him, a weak smile appearing on her lips.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi," he replied, trying to offer her a comforting smile, but not quite pulling it off.

She swallowed hard. "What happened? I remember arguing with you-..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he said, lowering his eyes.

"We argue all the time, Patrick. I have a feeling the two are unrelated." She took a deep breath and asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Patrick licked at his lips, his eyes not quite able to meet hers. "You're suffering from a brain aneurysm."

Robin's eyes widened. "Oh my God."

"It may be a result of the antidote or a side effect of your HIV meds, we don't know. The good news is it's operable. But its location at the back of your head makes it tricky. The surgery that would have to be performed would be extremely risky and require a long recovery time. I would like to pursue an alternative. It's an experimental procedure that has had very positive results. It's less invasive with less recovery time. It's called emergent endovascular occlusion with detachable coils. Basically, it involves-..."

"I'm familiar with it. I read a journal article on it last month. I think it's the way to go."

"Due to its experimental nature, only a few in the country are trained to do it though."

Robin lips curled down. "Are you?"

He smiled, trying to exude his normal confidence, even though he was scared to death inside. "I like to be in the minority."

Robin's eyes flooded with relief. "Well, then I know I'm in good hands."

He brought his hand up and cupped her face, saying softly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Robin."

"I know," she whispered. She then swallowed hard and added, "I'm really tired."

"Then rest. The next time you wake up, you'll be as good as new and ready to spar some more."

Robin closed her eyes. Patrick ran his hand over her soft hair, before standing up and placing a kiss on her forehead.

He then turned around to exit the room, but found his father standing in the doorway.

"Can I speak with you for a minute please?"

"I don't have time. I have to prepare for Robin's surgery. We're doing it immediately."

"It's about Robin's surgery. Make time," Noah said firmly, then turned on his heel.

Patrick sighed, running a hand through his hair.

---

Patrick found his father in one of the conference rooms.

He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm here, as requested. Make it fast."

Noah took a step toward him, bringing a finger up and pointing it at him. "You're not performing that surgery on Robin."

Patrick scoffed. "The hell I'm not! What? You think you are? You're not trained to do the procedure."

"This isn't about me. This is about you. You need to call another doctor in who is trained, Patrick."

Patrick's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? I'm here and I'm capable."

"Mentally, yes. But emotionally? I don't think so."

Patrick rolled his eyes and turned around to leave. "I don't have time for this."

"I am not going to let you make the same mistake I did!" Noah screamed.

Patrick turned around to face him, his brow creasing. "This has nothing to do with what happened with mom. Robin is not my wife."

"It's the same thing and you know it," Noah said, his voice low.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Patrick replied, moving his eyes to the ground.

"You're going to make me say it?" Noah asked.

"I'm a little slow today. I guess you're going to have to spell it out for me."

Noah shrugged his shoulders and stated matter-of-factly. "Fine, you're in love with her."

Patrick shook his head sharply. "And you're delusional."

"No, I'm not."

"You've seen how we fight constantly," Patrick replied sharply.

"I've seen how you look at her," Noah said softly.

"Look, I care for Robin-..."

"You look at her the way I looked at your mother," Noah finished. Patrick again moved his eyes to the floor as Noah went on, "Maybe you can't admit it to me or yourself right now, but it's true. And that's why you can't be the one in there performing that surgery."

Patrick ran his hands down his face and sighed. "You know what? You're wasting your breath anyway. Robin needs surgery right now and the only other person on the East Coast who can perform it is a two hour plane ride away. She can't afford to wait for him."

"That's not true. I checked her status. She can wait two hours."

"That aneurysm could burst at any moment. She could have permanent brain damage or be dead in two hours."

"The medication she's on minimizes the chances of that greatly. Stop wasting time by arguing with me, Patrick. Pick up the phone and get that doctor on a plane. Now."

"I'm not six years old anymore, Dad. I don't take orders from you."

Noah shook his head in frustration. "If you could stop being an arrogant, stubborn jackass for a minute, you might be able to see that I'm right."

"I highly doubt that."

"Damn it, Patrick! You have something I didn't: a choice. Your mother needed to be operated on immediately. There was no time to find someone else. I knew I had no right being in that operating room, but I didn't have a choice. You do."

Patrick's jaw tensed. "Robin wants me to do it."

"Robin doesn't know how you feel."

"And you do. I keep forgetting," Patrick said with a bitter chuckle.

Noah sighed. "I am trying to help you. I know what it's like not to be able to save the woman you love. It will haunt you for the rest of your life. You're stronger than I am and you would probably make better choices, but it could still destroy you in so many ways. I know how afraid you are of following in my footsteps. So why would you want to set yourself up for that?"

Patrick swallowed hard. "If something goes wrong, how am I supposed to tell her that I let some other guy do it?"

"What if something goes wrong if you do it? How are you going to tell her, knowing you're the one responsible? How are you going to look her in the eye?"

Patrick blinked back sudden tears. "And what if this other guy can't save her? How do I live with that, Dad?"

"I don't know, Patrick. How would you live with knowing you were the one who couldn't save her? I guess the question is: what are you willing to live with?"

Patrick's voice trembled, as tears glistened in his eyes, "She can't die, Dad."

Noah placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know, son. That's why you need to give her the best chance possible. You need to give her a doctor who is going to be focused solely on the task at hand."

"I just don't know," Patrick said softly.

"I can't force you to step aside. I said my peace and that's all I can do. Now the choice is yours to make."

With that, Noah squeezed Patrick's shoulder and then exited the room. Patrick sank down into a nearby seat, bowed his head, and threaded his fingers through his hair.

---

Patrick stared at Robin's peaceful face, just as he'd done for hours. She'd survived the surgery. Now he prayed that there would be no long-term effects. So far, her test results were good, but they wouldn't really know anything until she woke up.

Robin stirred, her eyes opening up halfway.

He smiled, bringing his hand to her cheek. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied weakly.

"How do you feel?"

She grimaced. "Like there's a jackhammer in my head."

Patrick grinned and breathed a sigh of relief. She seemed to be functioning normally.

"The surgery went well. Everything seems fine so far. I'm hopeful there won't be any long-term effects."

She managed a smile. "I never had any doubts...not with you doing it."

Patrick lowered his gaze, but didn't say a word.

Her brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

He bit at his bottom lip. "I didn't perform the surgery."

"What do you mean you didn't perform the surgery?"

"Dr. Henley from Orlando performed it."

"I don't understand. Was there some reason you couldn't perform it?" she asked, her forehead creasing in confusion.

"You know what? You really shouldn't concern yourself with any of this. The only thing that matters is that Dr. Henley did an excellent job and you're going to be just fine."

Robin's jaw tensed. "Don't do that, Patrick. I may not be in peak sparring condition, but I'm not going to just back down because you told me to. Something must have happened for you to let someone else do the surgery."

"Nothing happened."

"I know you. You don't back down from a challenge and you don't just hand cases over to other doctors on a silver platter."

"This wasn't just any other case," he said softly.

Robin tilted her head, noting something in his tone. "Why?"

Patrick met her eyes and whispered, "You know why."

Robin's mouth parted slightly, his eyes saying what his words couldn't. She swallowed hard, "Oh...I didn't-..."

He shook his head, cutting her off, "Look, this really isn't something I'm ready to discuss right now and you need your rest. Let's just say I realized there are some things my father is right about and leave it at that."

He moved to stand up, but Robin caught his hand, linking her fingers with his.

"Don't go," she breathed.

"But you need your rest,"

"I need you more right now," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

Patrick swallowed against the lump in his throat and sat back down.

They sat in silence, their hands remaining intertwined. No more words passed between them and no more needed to.

The two people who were never at a loss for words, who so often let words get in the way, were beginning to discover that sometimes a touch...a look...an action...can say more than words ever could.

**---------------------------------------------------THE END----------------------------------------------------**  
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought. -Steph


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